Artist’s rendering of a different race.

The tortoise crossed the finish line, winning the big race, in perhaps, the greatest upset of all time, excluding the ’85 Chicago Bears loss to the Washington Generals. It was debauchery to the nth degree, yet pure digression.

And where was the opponent? The hare? Excellent question. He was hookering it up with tiny mounds of cocaine on sixteen small pink bunny areolas or areolae in a sleazy hotel. [FACT CHECK: Female bunnies have eight nipples to make sure the baby bunnies are well fed. This means the hare was with two bunnies.] His heart was jackhammering like mad, two hours from complete seizure, followed by death. It can now be said: the hare never gave a shit. He was a true hedonist. Pleasure over trivial nonsense like races. His real love was getting high and loving through payment to pimps.

The tortoise went on to live for another 70 years with the false pride of defeating the hare. Competition is meaningless when both parties do not participate. This is why trophies for everybody are destroying our culture.

MORAL: Slow and steady wins the race.

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